


cold

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Graphic Description, Hurt No Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Underage Rape/Non-con, im not sure if i support claudexalois but theres no way i cant write something about them, just a part two, maybe not as sad as the first but equally as disgusting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 20:12:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19180573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: he wasn’t the earl. he didn’t want his body, he didn’t want to make him shiver and quake with pleasure, and that’s what made claude so fucking perfect and evil all at the same time.





	cold

**Author's Note:**

> just an unfinished part two of numb, which i want to turn into a full length fic considering the small but positive amount of feedback i recieved
> 
> and also came up with this brilliant yet very disturbing idea of the reason alois becomes so shamelessly promiscuous
> 
> enjoy if you can ~

 

alois sat perched on cherry wood, his soft legs crossed and freshly waxed, lathered with only the most luxurious lotions and oils you could find. his lips were glossed clear, the nude color standing out against his pale, creamy skin, only tainted with few bruises and marks.   
  
his platinum hair was tousled, the scent of vanilla and sweat in the air as he leaned back on his hands. his lip curled upwards in disgust at the feeling of a wet, slimy muscle on his feet, but quickly forced it into a sultry smirk, his diamond eyes shining with lust; he was quite the actor.   
  
times like these made alois feel like he had some sort of control over the situation, like if he really wanted to he could say no and walk away. inside, of course, he knew this wasn’t the case, and probably never would be.   
  
the silk kimono had been tossed to the side a while ago, every inch of his skin exposed to the chilly air of the earl trancy’s office. the door was locked, but had someone walked in, they wouldn’t have spoken a word. he had been raped and abused in front of his servants before, silently begging them to look away as he forced himself to moan in false ecstasy.   
  
the earl trancy was cruel indeed, wrapping his hand around alois, immature and definitely not hard. he would become angry and squeeze, as if to will something to come out with such a gesture. alois would try his hardest to force himself with tears of mistaken pleasure running down his soft, boyish cheeks

he had to, he had to force himself, or else the earl would be angry knowing his precious toy wasn’t derivng any real pleasure from his actions.

and one day, he saw it with his own eyes, coming out in soft spurts onto the ugly, silk bedding, and fighting off the tremors coursing through his body as the earl chuckled maliciously, hand still latched onto alois as if he wasn’t already drained and terrorized enough.

 

in all the months he’s been here (three, to be exact) even when he tried (whether to impress the earl and not risk another beating or just to simply pretend) he had never orgasmed under his touch before, but, his anatomy be damned, it had happened. he had witnessed it, felt it, and it was on his hands, his knees, his thighs, a mixture of the earl’s and his own dripping down his skin and soaking his very core with devastation. 

 

_ i’m not enjoying this, am i?  _

 

but he wouldn’t stop, and it  _ hurts _ , and alois thinks he might actually pass out if he keeps it up, his sounds becoming genuine the more it went on. the tears came out like waterfalls instead of rivers as his knuckles turned white from clenching the blanket.

 

_ stop. stop. stop. stop. ~~don’t~~ _ _  stop. _

 

he could only cry harder once he let go, knowing the earl mistook it for pleasure  _ (what a fucking idiot)  _ and only thrust into him harder, thinking he had finally gotten to his little minx and,  _ maybe i can make him cum two, three, four more times,  _ with a wrinkled, sadistic smile on his disgusting face. 

 

that night was a particularly horrible night for alois.

 

taking his nightly bath in the porcelain tub to rid himself of the earl’s sweat, spit and other disgusting fluids, he spread vanilla scented soap over his ivory skin, something he was still quite unused to even after being here so many months.   
his thighs and back were sore, along with other more private places, crescent bruises and scratches decorated his hips and the dimples on his back, some still fresh and some already dried and scabbed with blood, waiting to be washed away.    
  
these were his only moments of peace until the earl would ask for him again tomorrow morning. fresh in the morning, at the crack of dawn even, would he call his blonde over with greasy disgusting fingers in a beckoning motion, waiting for him to climb on top and complete part of his daily chores.    
  
even while he wasn’t being raped, he was being touched. sitting on his earl’s lap, either naked or very close to it. one hand caressing his back and another sliding between his thighs every now and then; he had mastered keeping his bile in his throat, even after such incidents happen and he’s in the privacy of the earl’s bathroom after a long night did he ever let himself wail or cry or vomit like the first few nights.   
  
the first few weeks.    
  
in the quiet of the bathroom, where he sat in his porcelain pool, drenched in pain and misery and all emotions derived from hell and the devil himself, he sniffles.   
  
his tears spill like miniature streams, bringing his knees to his chest and burying his face into them, every movement brought him pain, which made him remember.

 

today had been the worst by far, and he didn’t really think that was possible, but his mind replayed the scene in his head until he couldn’t stand it; the scene of his pleasure.

 

even calling it pleasure made alois shiver in the most horrible way. he had been experiencing nothing but pain and terror here and he knew it, even if his mind swirled with questions he had no answers to, and nowhere to get them. 

he didn’t enjoy it, he couldn’t have, even if that was what his body told him in that moment. he hadn’t learned much about sex before being forced to be earl trancy’s doll, but he wasn’t as stupid as most would think. he knew what the earl trancy was planning to do to him when he was standing in that line, boys his age and even older stripped of their innocence and humility. he knew enough to know what he wanted, to do what he wanted, to get what  _ he  _ wanted. 

he was naive enough to not expect it to be so dreadful, to think giving the earl his body was.. worth it. worth it enough to spend a life in beautiful clothes, eating delicious food and sleeping in a warm bed. 

he had nearly killed himself trying to give luka a decent life, let alone the lavish one he had been thrown into, and to let himself rot away in the basement with the other boys when he could have everything he and luka had ever wanted, _for_ _such a small price,_ was something he just couldn’t do. 

it hadn’t been as small a price as he had thought, but it was too late, and he knew he had already been succumbed to this life until the earl passes away; and he hoped that would be very  _ very _ soon.

 

but alois knew that would change nothing, and the months, possibly years, spent with the earl will ruin him, if they haven’t already.

 

it wouldn’t change the way his heart jumps in fear and shock every time he unwillingly orgasms from the slightest,  _ disgusting and utterly repulsive _ touches from the earl trancy during their acts from that day on; and holding his vomit in had become particularly difficult. 

 

another night he had scrubbed himself raw, his skin rosy pink in the hottest water he could handle.

 

it happened again, and again, and again. his body damning him, much like the earl himself, and he witnessed it each and every time.

he willed it not to happen, clenched his fists and held his breath and bit his lip and  _ fuck _ , even dug his nails into his skin until he bled to prevent the inevitable. to prevent the heat in his stomach and the shame in his heart, his mind telling him he was exactly the filthy boy the earl had said he was from the beginning. he enjoyed this to a degree, and there was no getting around it.

 

he would scrub and scrub until it stung, until he couldn’t take it and damned himself for letting those sobs escape his throat, considering death for the first time in his life. 

 

and the days he spent after that  _ particular _ day were the same, until he met his beautiful spider demon, ensnared in his web from the very beginning, and he had another reason to be filthy. only this time, he didn’t mind it.

he wanted those golden eyes on him and him alone, he wanted them to travel up his legs and wander until he couldn’t keep himself contained; he wanted him to  _ want _ him, and he didn’t. 

he did everything the earl loved. bending over in front of him on  _ “accident”  _ or bumping into the bulge in his pants with his ass, also on accident.

he had even gone as far as to plant himself right in the demon’s lap, just how the earl preferred, and expected him to rip his clothes off and take him right there on the loveseat, like he wanted, like he yearned for.

 

_ give me something different, something amazing, something i don't have to be ashamed of.  _

 

but he gripped his waist instead, sitting him back next to him with ease and straightening his posture right afterwards, expressionless through the entire endeavor.

that’s when alois knew he was his prince charming, unwilling to give him more than what the earl had already given, unwilling to soil him further.

he didn’t listen to his calls or his seductive tones, ignoring his skinny, sensual fingers dancing over the buttons of his pants, undoing them and even slipping in to grasp at something velvety, before claude says no in his chocolate coated voice and pulls them out. 

 

he made him want and want and  _ want,  _ until he was trying his hardest to imagine his demon’s hands traveling over his thighs and sliding over sensitive places, when he knew too well it was the same dirty, slimy hands since the beginning. 

 

he wasn’t the earl. he didn’t want his body, he didn’t want to make him shiver and quake with pleasure, and that’s what made claude so fucking  _ perfect _ and  _ evil _ all at the same time. 

  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~


End file.
